


was i a risk without reward (or did i make you proud)?

by poalof



Series: (how could i know that) the answer was so easy [1]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, Post-Season/Series 03, Redemption, all you need to know is there's yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 06:50:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20110918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poalof/pseuds/poalof
Summary: “I’m proud of you, you know,” he tells her one day before he dismisses her for the afternoon. She has plans to meet Entrapta in her lab to see the new experiment she’s been working on. With the way she’s been going on about it, Catra can tell it’s a big deal.“Oh, yeah?” she says, a smirk on her face as she packs up the texts she’s been studying:12 Histories of EtheriaandDialogues, a collection of conversations and essays from early Etherian leaders.“Yes, my dear. You have made so much progress these last few months. I’ve been talking to Glimmer about what this means for your future. I’m hoping she’ll see the qualities you’ve shown me.”My dear, she thinks.My dear.





	was i a risk without reward (or did i make you proud)?

Catra’s trial is different from how Scorpia described her own. There is no Council made up of the members of the Princess Alliance. There is no chance for her to plea and no chance for her to make a defense case in her name. She has already been declared guilty – all that’s needed is a judge to issue her sentence.

The throne room is nearly empty. She is escorted in by guards, her hands and feet cuffed together, to find Glimmer seated in her throne and a small audience gathered near the stairs in the front. Among those gathered she sees Scorpia and Entrapta, who have both been granted conditional freedom. Adora isn’t there.

When she finally makes it to the front, she is forced to kneel. She focuses her gaze on the ground.

“Catra, you have been pronounced guilty by the court of Bright Moon for your crimes against the citizens of Etheria. You are hereby sentenced to lifetime imprisonment in Castle Bright Moon with constant surveillance. No probation may be earned.”

Glimmer’s voice is shrill as ever but there is something different to it Catra can’t quite place. Perhaps it’s more authoritative, more sure than before, but there is a sense of sorrow and longing somewhere underneath the power.

The guards prompt her to stand and she does, starting to turn and walk out the throne room when – 

“Your Majesty, if I may, let me take her as my ward,” a voice says from the crowd. A tall man, his long dark hair and beard graying with age, steps forward. Micah is the man’s name, according to Entrapta. Glimmer’s father. 

Shock, then, slowly, anger form on Glimmer’s face as she processes what he said.

“You want me to let the woman who killed my mom,” she says, her voice shaking, “the woman who killed your wife, go unpunished and you want me to let you protect her?” 

“Well, yes, my dear.”

“Why? After all she’s put us through imprisoning her is a kindness she doesn’t deserve.”

“Give me one year, Your Majesty. If you still don’t think we can trust her by then, by all means punish her in whatever way you see fit.”

Glimmer sits there for a moment, then another. Finally she looks down from her throne and into Catra’s eyes. Another moment passes, and then:

“Fine.”

The night after Catra’s trial Micah invites her out to dinner with him so they can lay out some ground rules. He tells her the days will follow a strict structure to start but eventually, if all goes well, Catra will be free to roam around as she pleases. It’s frustrating and mundane and overwhelming all at the same time, which Catra doesn’t quite understand – that’s just how it is. She considers asking if she can just stay in a prison cell for the rest of her life. Micah laughs when she brings up the idea, says, “Sure, but the food isn’t nearly as good.”

She feels the corners of her mouth start to pull up, forces her face to remain neutral as she stares at him. 

“Anyway,” he says, still smiling, “meet me down here at around eight, okay? We can have breakfast together before we start our day. You’re free to stay down here as long as you want. When you’re ready to go, just tell a guard and you’ll be escorted back to your room.”

He gets up, stretches, then looks down at her again.

“I’m looking forward to our time together, Catra. I have high hopes.”

She sits for another hour. It’s not like she has anything else to do in her room and at least in the dining hall she isn’t alone. 

Eventually she gets up, goes to the nearest guard, and goes back to her room.

Days in Bright Moon pass quickly. Sometimes Micah gives her free time, which she spends with Scorpia or Entrapta or both of them if they aren’t off doing things to fulfil their newly designated duties to Etheria. Most of her time, however, is spent with Micah. She learns about the politics and culture of each Etherian kingdom. Imports and exports of each, trade routes and the geography they go through. It’s interesting, and she soon realizes most of politics and economics is just strategizing – something she’s well versed in.

Micah has her start talking to someone about her feelings.

“It’s called therapy,” he tells her. “It’ll help.”

It doesn’t.

The first few sessions Catra walks out of within the first ten minutes. It hurts, talking about Shadow Weaver and growing up in the Horde and – 

She just doesn’t understand how it’s supposed to help.

And then it does.

Catra decides that if she’s expected to go sit in a room and talk about her feelings, she may as well. She doesn’t have anything else to do and Bright Moon doesn’t have enough respect for her to consider how appearing weak will affect her treatment – she’s already a prisoner.

Months pass. Talking gets easier even if it still hurts. Her therapist lists off diagnoses. All Catra knows is that she’s really fucked up.

Micah responds positively to her attending therapy. He starts giving her more free time and lets her choose what they study.

“I’m proud of you, you know,” he tells her one day before he dismisses her for the afternoon. She has plans to meet Entrapta in her lab to see the new experiment she’s been working on. With the way she’s been going on about it, Catra can tell it’s a big deal.

“Oh, yeah?” she says, a smirk on her face as she packs up the texts she’s been studying: _12 Histories of Etheria_ and _Dialogues_, a collection of conversations and essays from early Etherian leaders.

“Yes, my dear. You have made so much progress these last few months. I’ve been talking to Glimmer about what this means for your future. I’m hoping she’ll see the qualities you’ve shown me.”

_My dear_, she thinks. _My dear_.

Adora talks to her for the first time since she arrived in Bright Moon four months after Micah takes her in as his ward.

It’s the night before the one-year anniversary of Queen Angella’s death and Castle Bright Moon is preparing for a remembrance ceremony in her honor. Micah had given her the day off so he could help with preparations. She’d spent the day in Bright Moon’s library, reviewing the texts they’ve been working with, stopping only twice; once to eat lunch and now, to catch dinner in the dining hall before it closes to finish preparations. She’s on her way back to the library when she hears her name:

“Catra.”

She turns. Adora stands at the other end of the hall. Her voice sounds the same but she looks different. It’s strange, Catra realizes – four months and this is the first time she’s heard Adora, _seen_ Adora. She wears her hair down now, the stupidly endearing puff long since gone. Her face looks older, any baby fat from her youth having disappeared to give her cheeks a more hollowed-out appearance, her jawline sharper. _She should look tired_, Catra thinks, _but she doesn’t_. Catra can’t bring herself to put a name to how she thinks Adora does look.

“Hey, Adora.”

Adora takes this as an invitation to walk closer. Instead of waiting, Catra turns and starts walking back to the library. She hears Adora stop walking and turns.

“I’m going to the library. Catch up, stupid.”

She keeps walking and smiles when she hears Adora break into a light jog so they can walk next to each other.

“Micah says you seem to be really enjoying your mentorship with him. That you’re really interested in politics.” 

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Good!” Adora says, slightly too loud for a conversation with someone she’s right next to. The look Catra gives her must tell her she’s done something slightly off because she continues, “I just mean, that’s cool, and all. I could never really wrap my head around it all it just gets so complicated, I mean, you know I love planning and strategizing but I just-”

“Adora,” Catra cuts her off. “It’s okay, I know what you mean. I just don’t have much else to do around here.”

Adora’s brow furrows at this. “Oh. Right.”

“Right.”

“Well, uh, I’m supposed to invite you to the ceremony tomorrow. Micah thinks it’s a good idea if you show up.”

“Okay.”

They stand at Catra’s table in the library for a few moments more until Adora breaks the silence again.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

She smiles at Catra – tight – and leaves.

Catra collapses into her chair and, once she’s certain Adora is gone and no one is around, cries.

The months that happened between Queen Angella’s death and Catra’s arrival in Bright Moon are still something of a blur Catra can’t quite wrap her head around. She remembers this: Entrapta being sent to Beast Island, losing track of Scorpia, and escaping from the Fright Zone with Hordak.

Entrapta tells her of this: arriving at Beast Island only to be welcomed by a stranger, engineering the finest ship to ever exist outside of Salineas, and escaping only to find refuge in Bright Moon.

She remembers this: ships from above, a man named Horde Prime able to terrify even Hordak leading an army larger than she’s ever seen, and the Rebellion fighting against all odds.

Micah tells her of this: coming home to find his wife dead and his only daughter being manipulated by his former mentor, an epic showdown to rival the greatest battles in the history of Mystacor, and defeating Shadow Weaver once and for all.

She remembers this: a miraculous victory against the Horde led by She-Ra, Hordak dead and Horde Prime vanished, and she with nowhere left to go.

Scorpia tells her of this: abandoning the Horde and returning to the Crimson Waste, finding a home there until the Horde invasion, and joining the Rebellion to save Etheria, the only home she’s ever known no matter how cruel it’s been to her.

Still, nothing feels quite real.

The ceremony is quiet as people pay their respects to their former queen. Catra stands in the corner next to Micah. Before, during breakfast, they decided it would be best if she stayed near him to avoid any conflict from breaking out.

She’s wearing robes, blue and white with gold embroidered along the hems, traditional Bright Moon wear that matches Micah’s. 

Glimmer sits at the front table, Adora and Bow on either side of her, looking out at the citizens of her kingdom gathered in the dining hall to celebrate her mother’s life. Catra can’t imagine having to share something so personal with so many people, having to remain stoic and strong the whole time.

She looks at Micah, who looks down at her, smiles, then turns his head back towards the front of the room. When she looks back at the front Adora is staring straight at her. Her face is hot, suddenly, her heart rate faster. She realizes that, like everyone else in this room, Adora must hold her responsible for Angella’s death. Again, she looks up at Micah and tugs on his sleeve to get his attention.

“I need to go,” her voice low, shaky. “I need-”

“Okay,” he says. “We can go to the gardens. We’ll come back when you’re ready.”

The walk outside gives Catra plenty of time to overthink. By the time they’ve reached the bench they sometimes meet at – the one they sit on to study when the library is too stuffy or crowded – Catra thinks she just might pass out.

“What’s wrong?” Micah asks once they’re both seated.

Catra stares at the ground, her arms wrapped around her knees and her tail wrapped around her legs.

“Catra-”

“Why don’t you hate me?” she says, trying to ignore the way the words get caught in her throat. They feel too sticky too large too mushy too-

“Catra, I took you in because I, too, was raised by Shadow Weaver. She manipulated me, convinced me that what I was doing was right, scared me into doing her bidding. It wasn’t until it was almost too late that I realized this. For so long I thought she loved me. I thought that maybe, just maybe, if I was good enough and did everything just the right way, she would be proud of me. I don’t know exactly how she hurt you, but I know she did. She’s Shadow Weaver, that’s what she did. In my mind, it’s only fair that you get a second chance. Or a third, or fourth, or whatever. You deserve a chance to find yourself, to apply yourself to something you enjoy and excel in and be rewarded.

“I’m so incredibly proud of you, Catra.”

Her throat feels sharp and her forehead feels blunt and when she looks up at him, he says nothing, just holds his arms out. She nods, then collapses into him and for the first time in too long, lets herself be comforted.

When she and Micah return to the ceremony most of the crowd has cleared out. She’s still anxious, her nerves on edge, but the less people there are in the room, the safer she feels.

Micah turns to her and says, “I’m going to go talk to Glimmer, okay? Find me if you need anything.”

She nods and he walks away. She scans the room for Scorpia or Entrapta in hopes that they’ll let her stand with them but they’re by Glimmer, too close for Catra to go near without possible conflict. She goes to the nearest guard and tells them wants to go outside. They escort her the nearest balcony and stand just inside the entrance, providing the illusion of privacy. 

She stands there, watching the way the moons move throughout the sky and focusing on her breathing. She’s interrupted when she hears voices coming from inside and turns to see Adora walking out through the door.

“Hello, Catra.”

“Hi.”

They stand there, looking at each other, the silence so tense Catra thinks she might go deaf until – 

“It was good of you to show up, I think,” Adora says, turning away. “It meant something to Glimmer.”

Catra scoffs at this. “I’m sure it did.”

“Something good, Catra.” Adora turns to face her again, steps closer once, then again, then again.

“Listen, I want-”

“Catra! There you are.”

They both jump back, Catra hitting the balcony railing in the process. She looks towards the door to see Scorpia, who continues speaking, completely unaware of anything she may have interrupted.

“Look, I know you didn’t eat. Or, at least, I didn’t see you eat, so I was thinking we could go get something for you before they clean everything up.”

Catra looks at Adora, then Scorpia, then back to Adora. “Sounds good,” she says, and leaves.

“So,” Scorpia starts, “you and Adora. What was going on there?”

“We were talking, Scorpia.”

“Well, I could see that. I mean, what about?” she asks, seemingly genuinely curious.

“We didn’t actually get much talking done. Since you came and then I left,” Catra says, scowling down at her plate.

“Do you think you two will be friends again?”

Catra looks up, fast. Scorpia is looking at her, earnest as ever. “All I’m saying is I want you to be happy. So if she hurts you, you come to me. She might be She-Ra, but I can take her if I need to. No one messes with my Wildcat,” she finishes with a determined look and then, a smile.

“Right. Thanks, Scorpia,” Catra says, unable to help the smile she returns.

After dinner, Catra goes straight to bed, exhausted. She settles into her bed expecting to pass out as soon as her head hits the pillow, but instead finds herself lying awake, too tired to sleep. _Adora_, she thinks. _Adora_.

She considers her options: lie in bed thinking too fast to sleep, or sneak out to Adora’s room.

She decides the risk is worth it and pads across the room to the open window. She climbs out, careful, and makes her way across the outside of the castle to the window she hopes is Adora’s. She climbs up, in, and then stumbles. She falls through and lands with a thump.

“Catra?”

She breathes out a sigh of relief, more grateful than ever to hear Adora’s voice.

“Hey, Adora,” she says, still laying on the floor next to Adora’s bedroom window.

“What are you doing here?”

“You wanted to talk, right?” Catra says, suddenly less sure of her plan. She hears footsteps, drawing closer, until Adora’s face appears in her field of vision, frowning down at her.

“Get up from there. Please.”

She sits up and follows Adora as she walks across the room. Her confidence is quickly waning, her plan going worse than planned as she feels the tension grow with each passing second.

“Sit,” Adora says, pointing at the chair in the small lounge area of her room. Catra does as she says. They look at each other, the feeling from the balcony slowly creeping up again and Catra thinks if she says something, anything, whatever response she gets will be better than this. 

“I started seeing a therapist,” she blurts out and Adora raises and eyebrow. Continue. “Micah suggested it. She’s helped me deal with all the shit Shadow Weaver did to me and all the shit I did to myself and everyone else and, yeah,” she trails off.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah. What about you?” Catra says, knowing she’s already on thin ice and this question could be the extra pound that cracks any chance at she has.

“Therapy, too. Apparently watching your ex-best friend destroy the fabric of space and time almost killing everyone you love in the process can be really traumatizing.”

Catra looks down at her hands folded together in her lap, starts picking at the claw on her left thumb, looks up at Adora. “I’m really sorry about all of that.” She does her best not to stutter.

“I know, Catra,” Adora says, smile tight and thin-lipped. “It’s just going to take some time.”

“I know.”

Weeks pass and Catra still hasn’t talked to Adora since The Night. She sees her in passing, though, and every time Adora greets her with that tight smile. Still, something is better than nothing.

A lazy afternoon, one where Micah doesn’t assign anything, granting Catra free time instead, leads her out into the garden and to her bench. And – like fate – Adora is there.

“Hey, Adora.”

She looks up from whatever she’s reading – a document of some sort – and greets Catra with a smile, tight as always. 

“Catra, hey. Hope you don’t mind sharing your bench with me. Micah suggested I come out here - he said it’s a great place to clear your head.”

“It is, yeah,” Catra says, unsure of how else to respond as she sits down on the other end of the bench, silence settling between them.

Despite Micah’s claim, Catra struggles to clear her head sitting. Adora is too close and her face is starting to feel hot and her heart is starting to race and she feels the ache and –

“I’m sorry.”

Catra’s startled out of the oncoming panic as Adora speaks. She looks up, surprised. A year ago she would have given anything to hear those words out of Adora’s mouth but now – anything Adora has to be sorry for pales in comparison to Catra’s remorse.

“I just,” she stops, then starts again. “I just think I owe you an apology for when we were kids. I didn’t understand what was happening to me or you and this doesn’t mean I’m responsible for any of the shitty things you did but still. It just seems right.”

“Is this something from therapy?” Catra asks slowly and carefully.

Adora looks at her from the side of her eye and then snorts, unable to hold back her amusement. “Yeah, Catra it is. I have a martyr complex, apparently, and feel responsible for other people’s wrongdoings. You can see how that all played out.”

She looks directly at Catra, then, and says, “This felt good. Bow says it’s called ‘airing out your laundry’ or something like that.”

Catra looks at her and smiles and agrees – it does feel good.

Catra takes her breakfast the next morning in the library. She hopes to finally finish her read-through of the latest text she and Micah have been studying, one of Etheria’s many religious scriptures. She gets to her table only to find someone’s stuff already there. Just as she’s turning to head outside to her bench, a voice:

“Catra!”

She turns back to see Adora standing across the table from her.

“Micah told me you’d be here.”

“I’m always here.”

“Right. Yeah.”

“Did you need something?”

“Oh!” Adora’s face lights up as she lifts the book she’s holding up so Catra can see it. “I was sort of hoping you could help me get a grasp on this stuff? Glimmer wants me to help her oversee some of the treaties we have with the other kingdoms over trade but I don’t really get it.”

Her voice trails off towards the end but Catra realizes what this means: Adora is extending an olive branch of some sort. Whether it’s to mend their relationship or Catra’s relationship with Bright Moon or something else entirely Catra isn’t quite sure. What she does know is that Adora is here, alone, with her, for only the fifth time in Catra’s many months in Bright Moon and she is quickly reminded of one of her most recent therapy sessions.

_“Do you think you’re ready to talk about Adora?” her therapist asks her. They’d been avoiding the topic since Catra started therapy. She’s managed to face her trauma: her abandonment issues and PTSD and anxiety stemming from her childhood abuse. She’s managed to come to terms with her actions and work with her therapist to plan meaningful ways to attempt reparations. But Adora –_

_Adora is not something they discuss._

_At this point, though, Catra’s confused. She doesn’t feel angry or scared around Adora anymore, around anyone in Bright Moon, but her face still gets hot and her heart still pounds and she aches and – _

_She tells her therapist who, in turn, smiles and shakes her head._

_“I have a feeling these reactions aren’t coming from fear, Catra. Let’s call the session here and you can take some time to figure out what’s going on, okay? Just, keep an open mind.”_

So she looks at Adora and aches and sits down next to her and opens the book and says, “Alright, Adora. Let’s see if we can get some information through that big forehead of yours.”

At first Adora just stares at her and Catra thinks maybe her joke fell short, but then Adora snorts and smiles at her and Catra aches just a little bit more.  
The study sessions with Adora become more and more regular. At first, it’s just Adora asking for help with economics. Adora tells her of the policies Glimmer and Micah are working to put into place and Catra weighs in with her own opinions and Adora smiles – no longer the tight smile Catra was once rewarded with, but the wide, toothy grin she had grown accustomed to when they were younger.

And then, one day, the conversation moves away from creating a more extreme progressive tax and placing a tariff on lumber gathered from the Whispering Woods and towards something else.

“Catra?”

Catra hums, not looking up from the book she’s reading.

“Can I show you something?”

This time Catra looks up because Adora sounds so hesitant, so unsure, and that’s never been like Adora.

“Sure,” she says and closes her book slowly, not breaking eye contact. Adora gets up from their table and Catra follows her into a section of the library she’s yet to read from, where it’s dimly lit and no other patrons of the library seem to be. Adora still seems so nervous, tugging on the sleeves of her robes as they walk and then they must reach where whatever Adora wanted to show her is because Adora stops and turns abruptly and then says, “I found this, one night, when you left before I did – you and Entrapta and Scorpia had made plans, remember? – and I just. I figured you deserve to see it.”

Adora pulls a book off the shelf, one clearly handled more recently than any of the others judging by the lack of dust, and hands it to her.

On the cover, a word written in a language that is not Etherian Common.

“I’m not actually sure what it’s about, but the people inside, they look like you.”

Catra stares at the cover, and then: “It says “A Brief History of Half-Moon.”

Adora stares at her, astonished. “You can read that?”

“You can read First Ones.”

“Well, yeah, but I always figured that was because I’m She-Ra, not because I am a First One.”

Catra looks at her, then back down at the book. “Let’s go back to the table.”

They walk back in silence, a tension present that was not there before the book. They sit, next to each other as usual, and Catra sets the book down on the table, opens it, and begins reading aloud.

Adora sits there, watching and listening, and slowly the tension fades.

“I’m a Magicat.”

It’s one of the rare times Micah and Catra study together anymore. He looks up at her and smiles, confusion written on his face. She pulls out the book to show him.

“I can read this. I look like the people in the drawings.”

Micah looks down at the page she has opened up to, then back at her and smiles, understanding this time. “So you do. How did you find this?”

“Adora showed me.”

“Well that was quite kind of her.”

“Did you know?”

He hums, questioning.

“Did you know that I’m a Magicat? That I’m from Half-Moon?”

He sighs, sounding suddenly tired.

“I had my suspicions but I’d never personally been to Half-Moon or met a Magicat. They were wiped out by the Horde fairly early on in the invasion, as far as I’m aware. If you feel that me not telling you this is a betrayal of your trust, I apologize. It’s just that I don’t know all that much.”

“Right, yeah,” she says, blowing out a breath of air and leaning back in her chair. “I guess I was just hoping you might be able to tell me more.”

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you any more than that book can. If you want, I can send out a formal request to the other kingdoms to see if we can borrow any information they may have on the Magicats.”

“I- that would be really helpful, Micah. Thank you.”

“Of course, my dear.”

The information on Half-Moon from other kingdoms is sparse, but still more than that available in Bright Moon. Catra isn’t sure why she cares so much – she wants to believe it is out of pure interest in culture, like that she has exhibited in previous studies, but she knows it’s more. 

She reads about the structures and techniques invented by early Magicats to build an underground kingdom, the irrigation systems and hunting and gathering methods used to provide food for a large sedentary population. She studies the art and clothes they created – bright, warm colors and geometric patterns common in both – and even finds a small collection of recipes hidden among the mostly historical accounts.

“Adora?”

Adora lifts her head up from where it rests on the table, yawns and rubs her eyes to clear them of sleep.

“Yeah, Catra?”

“Do you know how to cook?”

Adora snorts and Catra feels tenderness where years ago she would have felt resentment.

“No, I don’t. Not exactly wife material,” she says, clearly still delirious from sleep. Catra still doesn’t quite understand marriage, but the comment makes her lose her composure a bit. She knows Angella was Micah’s wife and Spinnerella and Netossa are going to be each other’s wives soon and it all has to do with promising yourself to someone, committing, for your entire lives. And, well, the thought of Adora and commitment and the feelings she still doesn’t quite understand – it’s all a bit much. It’s Adora’s voice that reigns her back in:

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why do you want to know if I can cook?” she asks with a sleepy grin, resting her elbow on the table and her head on her hand, turned to face Catra.

“These recipes. I want to make one.”

“Oh. Well, do we have all the ingredients?”

“The what?”

Adora stares at her, dumbfounded. “Ingredients? It’s like what you use to make it the food but it’s not like the spoons and bowls and shit it’s like-”

“Adora.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m fucking with you,” Catra tells her and she can feel the lazy grin on her face get bigger as Adora’s eyes widen and then – 

“You’re such an asshole, Catra, I hate you,” Adora says, and shoves her but she’s laughing the whole time so Catra knows she doesn’t mean it.

It’s not until after they’ve made plans to meet the next day to make one of the recipes and left the library and gone to their respective rooms that Catra realizes that’s the first time Adora’s touched her since the portal closed.

It isn’t actually until almost a week later that they get to try out one of the recipes Catra has. At first the kitchen staff had been apprehensive to let Catra in and not quite willing enough to risk losing their jobs due to Glimmer’s possible anger to let Adora vouch on her behalf. Then Adora got called away to settle a dispute over a trade route between Perfuma and the Star Sisters. Given the extra time, Catra translates the recipe into Etherian Common so Adora can follow along. When she returns and Catra shows her, Adora smiles. 

“I’ll trade you,” she says and holds out a piece of paper – a signed order from Queen Glimmer granting Catra use of the kitchens as long as Adora is present.

“How’d you convince her to do this?”

“I didn’t,” Adora says with a smug look.

“Oh, you’re bad,” Catra smirks, bumping her shoulder against Adora’s. Adora’s face reddens as she looks down at the recipe in her hands.

“Yeah, well, I’ve never had Magicat food before, okay.” 

She’s quieter than before so Catra says, “Me neither, stupid. Let’s go.”

The recipe shouldn’t be all that hard to make and truth be told it’s all going fine until Catra spills the oil on the ground and before she can clean it up Adora, clumsy as ever, slips and Catra, on impulse, sticks out her hand and grabs Adora by her collar and pulls. Their faces are so close Catra can feel Adora’s breath and her face is so hot and her heart is so fast and she aches and – 

“You’re welcome,” she says. She gives Adora another second to regain her balance then lets go of her shirt. She grabs a rag and goes to try and clean up the oil and Adora just stands there, staring.

“Thanks.”

The dispute escalates. Catra still isn’t quite sure what exactly the dispute is about or why they can’t just share but that’s one thing she’s sure will never change – princesses will always be too stupid for their own good.

Adora and Micah are both called away to assist and Glimmer, wary as ever, is hesitant to leave Catra unattended.

“Your Majesty, with all due respect, Catra has proven herself to be trustworthy. She’s done exactly as I’ve asked when asked and during her free time works only to further her knowledge of Etheria. She has shown great initiative and grown immensely more emotionally intelligent,” Micah argues. 

Glimmer scowls at him, arms crossed over her chest. “She could be tricking us. I wouldn’t put it past her.”

“At what gain, my dear?” Micah asks, exasperated.

“Well-”

“Glimmer, Your Majesty, if Catra poses such a threat why don’t we just bring her with us?” Adora cuts in. “After all, her knowledge on these topics is greater than my own. If we bring her we can keep an eye on her and she can help us with the treaty.”

Glimmer looks down at her, considering. “Fine. But if anything happens, she’s your responsibility.”  
At this, Adora frowns.

“Fine.”

“Great, so it’s all settled,” says Micah, nervous, tense. He sends one look Catra’s way and smiles. She smiles back and he seems to relax, his shoulders dropping.

“Great.”

The evening before they’re set to leave, Catra goes to Adora’s room. She knocks, quietly, then louder when there’s no answer. The door swings open and Adora stands there, gray shorts and tank top revealing her toned arms, the way her neck curves into her shoulders, the way – 

“Catra?”

“Hey, Adora.” Quiet. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah, sure. Come in, I’m just finishing packing.”

Catra steps into the room to find clothes scattered, maps and lists and documents spread across the walls and Adora’s desk.

“Sorry it’s a bit of a mess,” Adora tells her, rubbing the back of her head. “I don’t usually have guests. You can sit on the bed, I guess, since it’s clear.”

Catra feels her face redden, her heart –

“Oh, it’s okay, I don’t need to stay for long. I just- I wanted to make sure you know I’m not your responsibility. You seemed pretty shaken up when Glimmer said that and I- I just wanted to make sure you know.”

Adora smiles at her, small but genuine. “Thanks, Catra. I really appreciate that.” She steps closer to where Catra stands next to the bed, closer, closer, the air thicker with each step and Catra feels it, the ache, and – 

“Goodnight, Adora.”

She walks out and breathes.

The journey goes smoothly. They take two carriages, Glimmer, Bow, and Adora in one, Micah and Catra in the other. Micah and Catra discuss possible solutions, clauses to add to strengthen the treaty, and then settle into a comfortable silence. Catra gazes out the window, watching the Plumerian countryside pass them by and feeling her eyes grow heavier with each passing moment.

She’s shaken awake by Micah, urgent.

“Catra, get up. They’re fighting.”

She blinks her eyes open, bleary, and looks around. She sees Plumerians scuffling with another group of people she doesn’t recognize, presumably Star Sisters and their people. In the middle of it all Glimmer wields her staff, casting containment spells and shields while Bow rounds up as many people as he can using net arrows. In the middle of it all stands Adora, She-Ra, yelling over the crowd to settle down so they can settle this diplomatically. She and Micah stay back. 

“It’s better that we don’t get involved. They seem to be handling it and I don’t want any blame to fall on you, should something go wrong.”

Despite this, Catra is sure the blame will find a way to fall on her.

The fight seems to be settling down when Catra sees it.

A massive, pink bird circling the group overhead. How she’s the only one that sees it, she isn’t sure, but no one else pays it any attention as it glides above them. She watches for a moment more when a high, sharp noise sounds from somewhere near the crowd and the bird is gone from where it was seconds ago. Catra watches as it dives down, down towards the crowd.

She doesn’t hesitate.

Catra jumps up from where she sits next to the carriage and sprints, ignoring Micah’s calls to wait and pushing faster. She has to make it to the crowd before the bird, she has to she has to she has to –

She does. She jumps forward, hoping that she’s correctly guessed the bird’s target, and falls. Her eye burns, the pain searing, and she can smell the blood, but when she looks up the bird is gone and Glimmer is still standing, fine, so she lies back and smiles.

When Catra wakes up the pain in her eye has faded. She’s in her bed in Bright Moon, propped up by pillows and surrounded by people. She thinks she hears Micah send for Adora but she can’t hear over the immediate noise from Entrapta and Scorpia.

“Wildcat, you’re awake!”

“Oh, Catra, this is so exciting. Tell me, what do you see?”

Catra looks at them, confused. “I see you, Entrapta, and Scorpia.”

Entrapta, still smiling, says, “Okay, but how far away do we look?”

“Um, like five feet away?”

Entrapta glances up a Scorpia, smile growing. “Her depth perception is fine. Scorpia, will you go stand on her other side?”

Catra watches as Scorpia moves around her bed to her left side. “Can one of you please tell me what’s going on?”

“Just look ahead and tell me if you can see Scorpia out of your peripheral.”

“Yes, of course I can see Scorpia, now tell me what’s going on,” Catra says, frustrated.

Scorpia walks closer to her and sets a gentle claw on her shoulder. “Catra, your left eye is gone. The Glorybird scratched too deep.”  
Catra looks up at her, brow furrowed. 

“I whipped up this eyepatch to replace your lost vision,” Entrapta tells her. “It seems like it’s doing it’s job fine, providing the correct messages to your optical center and all that, but let me know if you want me to enhance it in any way.”

“Thank you, Entrapta.”

“Of course, Catra,” Entrapta says, smiling. “We’re friends. We help each other.”

For once, Catra feels compelled to initiate physical contact. She holds out her arms and lets her best friends hug her, love her.

A throat clears and they look up.

Glimmer stands in the entrance to Catra’s room, arms crossed and shoulder hunched in. She stares at the foot of Catra’s bed, refusing eye contact.

“Catra, I owe you an apology. Thank you for saving my life.”

Then as quickly as she entered, she leaves. Catra looks at Entrapta, then Scorpia, and laughs.

Another throat clears and she looks up expecting to see Glimmer standing there again, but it’s Adora. She steps in, slowly, and smiles at Catra, big. Catra can’t help but return it. She looks at her friends, still smiling, then says, “Could you guys give us a minute?”

Entrapta smiles at her and pushes herself off the bed. Scorpia gives her one last squeeze, says, “It’s good to see you like this, Wildcat.” 

She smiles as she watches them leave, grateful.

Adora paces over, and then paces back, continuing back and forth until Catra thinks she just might wear the floors down.

“I can’t believe you, Catra.”

“What?” she says, grinning. “I can’t be the hero for once?”

Adora stops, looking up. “You know that’s not what I meant,” she says, frowning.

“I know,” Catra says. She pats the space in the bed next to her. “Come here. We can test out my new peripheral vision.”

Adora stares at her. “You’re not taking this seriously,” she pouts, but walks over anyway and climbs into bed next to Catra. “You’re lucky nothing worse happened to you.”

Catra snorts, says, “If I hadn’t saved Glimmer she would have blamed me for that fucking bird and I’d probably be beheaded.”

Adora’s head snaps to look at her. “You don’t actually think that, do you?”

Catra shrugs. “I wouldn’t put it past her.”

Adora laughs, leans into Catra. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

And there it is – her face reddening, her heart racing, her aching – 

“Adora?”

She looks up at Catra and they’re so close. Catra can see the faint freckles on Adora’s nose, the tiny scar under her eye from when Catra accidentally nicked her while sparring, the little ring of green and brown in her irises that she watches glance down, then up into her own eye, then down again and – 

“Adora?” she says again.

“Yeah?” Adora says, still looking down.

She leans forward and Adora leans up and their lips connect and just like that the ache spreads through her chest, her limbs, her head, and grows and grows and grows until it explodes, a gentle warmth settling to replace it. She pulls back and looks at Adora and smiles and Adora gives her the biggest smile she’s ever seen, blinding and warm and – 

Following her recovery, Catra is appointed to Bright Moon’s Council. Glimmer still seems a bit apprehensive but with Micah and Adora supporting her, Catra knows her position is solid. It’s after their fifth Council meeting with Catra serving as an economic advisor that Micah pulls her aside.

He leads her to their bench and sits down, letting Catra follow in her own time. She sits down and he wraps his arm around her, pulling her in close and placing a kiss on the crown of her head.

“I’m so proud of you. I need you to know that, my dear.”

She leans back and looks up at him and smiles. He smiles down at her and for what she thinks could be the first time in her life, Catra feels completely safe and happy and understood by a parent.

She leans in again and knows she is loved.

**Author's Note:**

> title from addictions by lucy dacus
> 
> poalof.tumblr.com


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